


Night of the Impala

by firesign10



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Comedy, Coming of Age, Ensemble Cast, F/M, M/M, Movie Remix, Romance, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-21 06:11:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4818089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firesign10/pseuds/firesign10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam Winchester is ecstatic when his older brother Adam gives him custody of Adam's '67 Impala during Adam's first semester at college. While Adam and Jessica struggle with their changing relationship, Adam's fellow college-bound friend Castiel ponders his choices during a series of misadventures,  town drag-race hero Benny LaFitte faces his greatest challenge yet, and Sam cruises in the Impala and meets a handsome stranger. Based on the movie <i>American Graffiti</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night of the Impala

**Author's Note:**

> Written for September 2015 round of . I was thrilled to enjoy another fantastic collaboration with the lovely and talented [amberdreams](amberdreams.livejournal.com) !! Thank you so much!!! Check out her art post!! 
> 
> Thanks and love to [roxymissrose](roxymissrose.livejournal.com), [theatregirl7299](theatregirl7299.livejournal.com) and [dolnmoon](dolnmoon.livejournal.com) for unerring feedback and unswerving support. Additional kudos to [theatregirl7299](theatregirl7299.livejournal.com) for the sterling beta.
> 
> Link to story [on LJ](http://firesign10.livejournal.com/1369959.html)
> 
> Link to [Art Post](http://amberdreams.livejournal.com/347542.html)

[ ](http://s830.photobucket.com/user/Amberdreams1960/media/Gifs/Night_of_the_Impala_final.gif.html)  


 

 

"Dude! Really? I get to keep your car?"

Sam was blown away. Adam was going off to college the next morning, and he was entrusting Sam-- _Sam_ , his nerdy, clumsy little half-brother--with his cherry ride, a coal-black, super shiny, engine-to-die-for 1967 Impala. The Impala would be Sam's to care for, to polish, to drive around town and on the Strip, to pick up girls with.

Well, hopefully to pick up girls with. Sam had never been too successful in that regard, but now! Now he had the _Impala_ , the car admired and envied by everyone in their crowd and beyond. So much cooler than his little Vespa scooter, a dinged-up little aqua affair that puttered when it ran. Sam had ridden it to Biggerson's this very evening and stashed it around the corner of the building.

Sam shivered in anticipation. Maybe he could finally meet a girl, a girl who would look at him with her heart in her eyes, who would let him kiss her ruby lips and slide his hand inside her blouse. Outside her bra, of course. Sam was a gentleman.

A smack upside his head cleared the rosy vision from his mind. "You don't get to _keep_ her, doofus. You're taking care of her until I come back at Christmas, okay? And no gettin' anything... _sticky_...on the upholstery, you hear me?" Adam frowned in mock anger.

"Sure, sure, man. I'll be really careful. Gosh, thank you...I promise I won't let you down, Adam!"

"Sure thing, Sam. Now off you go. I'm gonna stay up tonight with Jess, just hang out with everybody. See you at the airport tomorrow morning." Adam winked.

He and Jess drove off in her little Nova. Sam looked the Impala over one more time, ghosting his hand across her shiny finish, smiling at the sparkling chrome. Man, even he could score in a car like this!

He pulled open the driver's door and hopped inside. The tan upholstery was smooth and soft, the stitching perfect, not a spot to be seen. He sighed happily as he fired up the engine, relishing the deep rumble as he carefully backed up and pulled out of Biggerson's parking lot and into the street. _I'm gonna get lucky tonight!_ looped inside his brain, and his palms felt sweaty on the steering wheel.

"Really? You're letting Sam take care of your car?" Jess looked at Adam, blue eyes wide with surprise. They were parked on the outskirts of town, radio playing softly, the music punctuated by the Voice of God, the nighttime DJ and a celebrity in his own right to the town of Lawrence.

 _"Call in your requests, boys and girls! Tell me what you wanna hear, the Voice of God is gonna make it happen! All your dreams coming true tonight, baby!"_ A reedy cackle before the beginning of _Whole Lotta Love_ drifted from the rado grille.

"Yeah, he'll do a good job. Between wanting to score and being scared of my wrath, he'll be damn sure nothing happens to it." Adam pulled Jess closer, running his hands through her blonde waves and cupping her soft cheek tenderly. He was going to miss her like crazy the next few months. He'd be in a new, strange place meeting all sorts of new people, and she'd still be a senior at Frank Devereaux High School back here in their hometown. A rush of affection--with a good dose of horniness--swept through him. "Now, let's stop talking about my little brother and start making memories, okay, babe?" He kissed her, swiftly slipping his tongue in as his hand fumbled with the buttons on her blouse, spurred on by both the imminence of his departure and the lure of her breasts as they swelled beneath her fitted button-down blouse.

"Mmmph...Adam, stop! What... _ohh_..." Her words melted into tiny moans as Adam managed to open her blouse and stroke her boobs, still clad in a white lacy bra, while he sucked a hickey into her neck. "Adam, we talked about this..." She sighed, and he felt her melt a little more against the car seat.

"So pretty, baby, just wanna...a little more..." He kissed her again, felt her nipples harden through the lacy bra as he thumbed them. Adam slid a hand behind her back, cursed silently at the clasp that eluded his fingers. He wanted to feel her skin in his hands, her pulse as he held those sweet tits. His dick stiffened in his blue jeans just at the thought of it.

"Gonna miss you, babe...wanna remember you the next few months..." he murmured, licking the shell of her ear and squeezing one breast as he struggled to pop that damn clasp. So close...

Her eyes flashed as she shoved him off her body. "What? You mean if I don't let you cop a feel, maybe put out tonight, you're going to forget who I am? It's only second base that will make you remember me?" She angrily slapped his hand away and buttoned up her blouse. "Well, Adam Winchester, you can just forget about _anything_ happening tonight! And why don't you forget about _me_ while you're at it!" She pushed the car door open and jumped out. "And to think I thought you were the one! I was going to _wait_ for you!"

Adam sputtered, his erection pinching in his jeans as he scrambled off the floor of the car and watched Jess stomp away. "Jess! I didn't--Jess!" She didn't turn around.

"Well, shit...that didn't go well," he muttered to himself. "Fuck! She wants to be like that, fine!" He started the car and drove off in the opposite direction. "Women!"

 

Sam drove down the main strip in town, that being the eight blocks with most of the town's retail establishments on it and ending with Biggerson's. Plenty of other teens were cruising too, and every single one of them looked at the Impala with admiration and envy. Well, everyone except the car that mooned him - a pair of pale buttocks pressed against the glass as the occupants howled with laughter.

 _Screw them,_ he thought. _The night is young._

He slowed as he saw a young man walking briskly down the sidewalk while a car trailed him, the boys in it sticking their heads out of the windows and catcalling.

"Hey there! Pretty boy!"

"Hey, you! Wanna use those lips on me?"

"Whoop whoop! C'mon, fag, blow me!"

The young man stared straight ahead, ignoring the assholes, but Sam recognized his hunched shoulders and set jaw as signs of distress. Sam knew all too well how it felt being picked on like that, although for different reasons. No one ever wanted Sam to blow them.

While Sam would never have spoken up normally, driving the Impala gave him a feeling of omnipotence. Who would dare go against the driver of a car like this?

"Hey, dude!" Sam pulled up to the sidewalk and addressed Dean, cutting off the cat-callers. "You need a ride?" He glanced meaningfully at the car behind him. "Like, away from here?"

The young man hesitated, also glancing at the jerks still yelling at him. He looked back at Sam, then nodded shortly and ran around the side of the Impala, opening the door and jumping in. Sam pulled away quickly, reveling in the growl of the engine and the speed of their getaway.

"Thanks," his passenger said gruffly.

"Hey, no problem. Guys like that - they're just jerks. Happy to leave 'em in the dust for once. Usually it's the other way around. Besides, what's it matter to them that you're pretty? I mean, you are, but--" Sam cut off his babbling. What the hell was he even saying? He felt his cheeks burning as he stuttered, "Gosh--I mean, I'm sorry--I just, I'm a dork--"

The pretty guy laughed. Sam liked the sound of it; rich, rough, deep. It went all the way down Sam's body to his toes. "It's okay. I hear it enough, it don't bother me that much. Just the way they were hanging on, though, I was...I didn't know what was gonna end up happening, you know? More of them than of me. Thanks for getting me outta there."

Sam didn't quite know, but he could guess. "Well, glad I could help." He stuck a hand over. "Sam. Sam Winchester."

The guy shook his hand. "Dean Campbell." He looked admiringly around the car. "Say, this is one sweet ride! This yours?" He didn't wait for Sam's answer, but started chatting about engines and rpms and shafts and a lot of other stuff that Sam had no idea about. Running a hand over the leather upholstery, Dean cooed, "And this is a boss stitching job! Look how even and smooth that is, and the leather's like butter!" He leaned closer to Sam. "I'm a sucker for a pretty muscle car like this."

Sam turned his head just in time to see Dean wink. Sam almost went onto the shoulder, so distracted was he by those big, green eyes, one briefly eclipsed by the swoop of thick, dark lashes. He hadn't really looked at the guy since he'd jumped into the car, and now, pulled over by the side of the road, Sam looked.

And _looked_.

It wasn't just the intense green of Dean's eyes, although they were pretty distracting themselves. It was the aristocratic slope of Dean's nose, the perfect planes of his cheeks. His skin was very lightly tanned, but tiny freckles were generously spattered everywhere, making him look both wholesome and intriguing. Dean smiled at Sam, making him aware of the tiny dimples above the corners of Dean's mouth, and how the skin at the corner of his eyes crinkled in an engaging way.

"Yeah...I mean, thanks." Sam tore his eyes away, feeling self-conscious about staring at his passenger so blatantly. He squirmed against the driver's seat; his limbs felt extra tangled and gawky compared to Dean's graceful, careless posture. Sam knew his longer hair was probably a wild mess, instead of casually spiked and styled, and his jeans seemed inexplicably too tight all of a sudden. _Maybe I shouldn't have had that second milkshake back at Biggersons,_ he mused absently.

The Voice of God said "The night is young, so let's hit the road and party!" and _Highway to Hell_ filled the car.

"Oh, I love this song!" Dean leaned forward and turned the radio up. Dean sang along, and Sam was transfixed, watching Dean's full, mobile lips move and his husky voice singing along to the radio.

Dean poked Sam in the shoulder. "C'mon, Sammy, let's go for a ride!"

Castiel wandered aimlessly down the street. He'd eaten with Adam and Jess at Biggersons, but Adam had made it clear he and Jess had plans for the evening. That was fine with Cas--he and Adam were supposed to leave for college early the next morning, and he wanted to walk around, savor his hometown before leaving it for the first time. He had a lot to think about.

He looked around at the brightly lit stores, watched the cars cruise by, reflecting those lights in their gleaming finishes. He'd been so anxious to leave Lawrence, to get out of what felt like such a back-water, confining small town. He wanted new people, new ideas, new experiences. When the acceptance letter came from Stanford, he'd rejoiced that his opportunity had arrived at last.

But now...now that the moment was almost at hand...

Suddenly he felt reluctant to leave. And it confused him.

As he stood there in his confusion, a scarlet 'Vette slowly drove by and stopped at the red light next to him. Even Castiel, not the biggest car aficionado, couldn't resist staring at it--it looked powerful, sleek, and sexy. The driver was a beautiful woman with dark eyes and wavy black hair. She wiggled her fingers at him with a wicked smirk. He stopped in surprise. Pointing at himself, he said "Me?"

She nodded, rolling down her window and blowing him a kiss. Crooking a finger at him, she said, "Hey, baby." Her voice was husky, her lipstick dark red.

Castiel felt like he'd been poleaxed--he'd never seen anyone like her. She looked dangerous and alluring, and he wanted to find out everything about her. Like how her mouth felt on his.

The light changed and she drove on with another wave.

"No! No! Wait!" Cas wrenched his feet free and ran, trying desperately to catch up with her. Despite his flying feet, when he turned the next corner...she was gone.

Benny LaFitte slowly cruised the strip, his black Chevelle SS with white racing stripes catching the eye of every guy and his rugged good looks attracting the attention of all the girls. He smiled and flirted as he drove slowly, but despite their laughter and their preening, none of the girls would ride with him tonight. He was getting bored when another car of giggling girls pulled next to him, complimenting his car and batting their eyes at him.

"Aw, c'mon, who's gonna ride with me? I'm so alone," he said, pretending to be sad and making them all giggle.

"Jo will go with you!" One of the girls yelled as the rest collapsed in laughter.

"Sure, Jo, her sister, her cousin, come on!" Both cars stopped at the next red light, where someone dashed out of the girls' car and hopped into his. Benny turned around with a big, slow smile, ready to charm her panties off, already imagining what they would do--

"What the hell?" he exclaimed.

A skinny young girl--not more than thirteen or fourteen--grinned at him from shotgun. Her blonde hair was scraped back in a ponytail, and her over-sized white t-shirt accented her coltish frame and the little curves just beginning to bloom.

"Who the hell are you?" Benny demanded, correcting the swerve he'd gone into at the sight of her.

"I'm Jo. You said I could ride with you." She looked around. "This is a bitchin' car!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. What the fuck, you're a kid! Get outta here!"

"No! You said I could ride, and I'm bored, and I'm tired of never having any fun!" She crossed her arms and glared at him. "You better let me stay, or I'm gonna scream!"

"No, no, no need to scream now!" Benny shifted into placating mode. The last thing he needed was attracting some cop's attention with a kid in his car. She might be young, he figured, but she was still a girl, and he knew how to handle a girl. He gave her a big fake smile.

Jo sneered at him. "Cut the crap! You ain't foolin' me, mister, and I'm too young for you to seduce, so just quit it!" She started jabbing at the radio buttons, squealing when she came across the Voice of God.

"It's a hot night out there tonight, baby! I'm spinning the tunes and you're howlin' at the moon! This is the Voice of God, and it's time to _Gimme Some Lovin'!"_

Benny groaned. It was going to be a long night.

 

Sam and Dean drove around for a little while. Dean talked a lot about cars, most of which went over Sam's head, but he nodded and made little noises of agreement. Sam didn't care what Dean talked about, as long as he got to watch and listen. Dean was fascinating, a burst of color in Sam's rather drab life, like an exotic bird roosting in the chicken yard.

"So, Sam, how about we get something to drink? Liven this party up a little?" Dean winked.

"Uh, sure, you want a cherry Coke? I can head back to Biggerson's."

"Naw, man, not a soda. We need some booze! You're a smart guy--I bet you have all the top grades, huh? A regular brainiac, like a mathlete. You oughta be able to get us some whiskey!" Dean pointed at a liquor store coming up. "Pull over there and get us some Southern Comfort, okay? I looove me some Southern. Or maybe some Jack!" He smacked his lips, which Sam found very distracting.

Sam pulled over, his mind churning. They were both underage, and Sam looked it. Maybe Dean could fake it - he wasn't quite as tall as Sam, but he was more muscular and filled out, and definitely more sophisticated. Right now he was looking expectantly at Sam though, and Sam really, really wanted to make him happy.

Sam got out of the car and slowly walked into the liquor store, trying to appear nonchalant.

"Can I help you, son?" The proprietor had a grizzled brown beard and kind eyes.

Sam swallowed. There was a host of little baskets and bins of items on the counter, and he started picking several of them. The man-- _Bobby_ , according to his name tag--dutifully rang them up as Sam babbled his order.

"Jerky...two of those, please...a lighter...oh, some of those barbecue chips...a pint of Southern...a tin of those mints..."

Bobby bagged everything up and said, "That'll be 21.57." Sam pulled his wallet out, rejoicing inside that it had been that easy, when Bobby added, "Oh, and I'll need to see some I.D. for the Southern."

Sam opened the Impala's door and slid inside, handing the bag to Dean.

"Dude! I knew you could do it!" Dean crowed as he pawed through the bag. "Hey...where's the Southern?"

"He carded me," Sam said glumly. He waited for Dean to get out and walk off. He knew it had been too good to be true. What would a hot guy like Dean want with nerdy, gawky Sam?

A warm, heavy hand patted his shoulder. "Hey, it's okay." Sam looked up to see Dean grinning at him. "We'll just try something else. Hey, there's someone pulling up. Ask them to get it for you!"

Sam looked to see a tall, slender woman getting out of a convertible. Dean gave him a little shove, so he obediently got back out of the Impala and approached her. "'Scuse me, ma'am?"

"Yes? Can I help you?" She stopped and looked at him, and he was surprised to hear her crisp English accent in the middle of Kansas. A knowing smirk spread over her pretty face. "Let me guess...you can't score some hard stuff? Forgot your I.D., did you?" She quirked her fingers when she said 'I.D.' and winked at him. "Happy to help." She held her hand out, and Sam gratefully handed over the money. "Wait right here, I'm in a bit of a hurry."

"Sure thing," Sam said, and he turned to give Dean two thumbs' up.

Seconds later, there was a bang inside the store, and the woman ran back out. "Catch!" she called, tossing Sam the bottle. He barely caught it, then stood astonished as Bobby ran out of the store, brandishing a shotgun.

"Talbot, you bitch! I'm callin' the police!" he shouted at the convertible as it sped away. Sam quickly ran to the Impala. Dean had slid over into the driver's seat, and he pulled out of the lot as soon as Sam was inside the car. Dean was howling with laughter, and Sam just stared at him, trying to comprehend what had just happened.

"Well, important thing is we scored! Let's go find someplace quiet and enjoy it," Dean said happily.

Sam let his head loll on the back of the seat. He wasn't sure he was cut out for these kind of thrills. He turned to look at Dean, driving with a big grin as he hummed along with the radio, and decided it was worth it.

"Hey, Benny!" A beater pulled up next to Benny's sleek Chevelle, and Garth Fitzgerald leaned out of the passenger window. "Eldon Styne's looking for you! He's in town and wants to race ya!" His big eyes shone with excitement, and his thin face was flushed.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll race him, and I'll blow him off the street!" Benny yelled back. He snorted. "Tell him I'll be the usual place at six a.m.!"

"You betcha! You got this, Benny, you're the best! No one can beat you!" Garth pumped his skinny arm and the beater sped off.

"You guys gonna race? Can I watch! Can I ride with you during it?" Jo peppered him with questions, bouncing in her seat.

"No, you can't! It's dangerous, I'm not going to be responsible for you there. And I can't have some little brat distracting me during a race either." Benny scowled at her, and she pouted.

"Fine! Then I get to ride around with you until then." She crossed her arms and scowled back at him.

"Oh dear Lord, kill me now," he muttered, and then cursed as he ground his gears. Jo just laughed at him.

Sam and Dean lay on a blanket Sam had found in the back seat, looking up at the stars. They'd driven out of Lawrence into the country, finding a nice field to lay down in. They'd drunk the pint between then, and Dean had pulled out a doobie from his jean jacket, which they'd passed back and forth. Sam had coughed like a fiend at first, but Dean showed him how to pull the smoke in gently. Sam's head was spinning from the booze and the dope, and he giggled as he watched the stars rotating above him.

"I c'n see...see the world turning!" he said to Dean. "Can you see it?"

Dean chuckled, a dark, rich sound that made Sam's body vibrate. "You are so toasted, man." He turned onto his side, propping his head up with his elbow and smiling at Sam. "You know, you are pretty good-looking for a kid. Even with that floppy hair." He tugged gently on a lock of said hair, making Sam's head tingle.

"I'm not a kid! I'm seventeen! Gonna graduate next spring." Sam was transfixed by those green, green eyes. Did they have little gold specks in them? He'd never felt attracted to a guy before, but right now all he could think about was how it would feel to kiss those full lips...they looked so soft, so delicious.

"Yeah? You ever been kissed before?" Dean's voice was soft and low, like honey. Sam realized he'd said it out loud, but he didn't even care. He just felt like he was melting as he listened to Dean.

"No," Sam whispered. Breathing was becoming increasingly difficult, and his jeans were feeling oddly tight.

"Here," Dean murmured, and pressed his lips against Sam's.

Jess angrily strode down the road, shoes rapping smartly against the pavement. She was so busy arguing with Adam in her head, giving him a piece of her mind, that she didn't notice the car pulling up next to her.

"Hey, what's a pretty girl like you doin' out here all alone?"

She started and turned to see a Camaro next to her, and the driver leaning over to the passenger window.

She knew that car and that driver, from previous races and talk around town. It was Eldone Styne, Benny LaFitte's rival from next town over.

"What...are you here to race Benny?" she blurted.

"Why, yes, I am, dollface. Wanna ride a bit with me?"

 _Adam would be so mad,_ the angel on her shoulder whispered.

 _Good! Serves him right, taking me for granted like that!_ whispered the devil on her other shoulder.

"Sure thing," she said with a big smile. Eldon opened the door from inside, grinning lasciviously as she slid into the passenger seat.

Castiel sat on a GTO parked on the side of the street, contemplating the irony of encountering such a fascinating woman during his last night in town. What kind of cruel caprice was this? He sighed heavily.

"Do you realize whose car you're sitting on?"

An snotty voice cut through Cas's reverie. He slid off the car hastily. "Uh, no, I just--"

"This here is our friend Rafe's car. And Rafe, he's got kind of a short temper, know what I mean? I don't think he would take too kindly to someone he didn't know just parking their keister on it." A tall, blonde guy was standing right next to Cas as he spoke.

"Yeah," said another guy on the other side of Cas. This one was short with light brown hair, and a sneering lip. A third guy crowded Cas from behind, as tall as the blond one but wider, with almost whitish hair and slightly crazy blue eyes. Cas was alarmed to see they all wore the pale blue satin jackets of the Angels, a local gang. _Oh shit, now I'll be in the hospital instead of flying out to Stanford,_ he thought.

"Guys, I'm really sorry," Cas wiped the car with a sleeve after he jumped off. "See? Not a mark. I'm sure we can just let this go. No need to get Rafe upset, right?" He laughed nervously.

The leader looked at his cohorts. "Gabe? Zach? What do you think?"

Gabe and Zach shook their heads. Gabe--the brown-haired one--said, "I dunno, Balt. Rafe doesn't like anyone messing with his stuff."

Balt tsked and walked around Cas, who was getting more nervous by the second. "Well, let's see what you can do to make it up to us. And Rafe."

"Sure, guys. Anything." Cas licked his lips and smiled broadly.

"That's what I'm looking for! Team spirit!" Balt clapped Cas on the shoulder, and they all grinned as they piled into Balt's Barracuda.

Sam's lips felt swollen, he and Dean had kissed for so long. The pot and booze buzz blossomed into a haze of pleasure as their mouths explored each other and hands roved. Sam could feel his dick leaking in his boxers as he rubbed against the meaty thigh Dean pressed against him. Dean's hand slid into the back of Sam's jeans, fingers wiggling down to knead his ass. Sam gasped into Dean's mouth, and Dean chuckled.

The questing hand withdrew and fumbled at Sam's fly. "Dean?" Sam asked, apprehension and lust warring inside. He wanted, oh yeah, but he'd just met Dean, and shit, he didn't even know he liked guys before. But his dick disagreed; it wanted some attention _righthefucknow,_ hard and jumping inside his jeans.

"Relax," Dean whispered. "Not gonna pop your cherry. Just...gonna clean the pipes a little." With that, he shoved his hand inside Sam's jeans and boxers, wrapping his hand around Sam's dick and stroking it tight.

Sam thought he was going to pop within seconds. No one had ever touched him before, and Dean's hand was hot, and just tight enough, and ohgodohgod...

Then he did pop, spurting all over Dean's hand and his own clothing, muscles tensing painfully as his cock jerked and spat. For a moment he thought his skull would explode, but then a tremendous feeling of warmth and well-being flooded him.

"Yeah, thought you'd like that," Dean purred. He opened his own jeans with his clean hand, then quickly started jerking off with the other, still covered in Sam's come. "Yeah...yeah...god, you came so pretty..." Dean gasped. Sam's eyes were riveted, watching Dean's own hard, flushed cock move, seeing Sam's own jizz smearing onto it. He shuddered and a dribble of come weakly pulsed out. Dean groaned loud and long as he came, adding his spunk to Sam's, even shooting white splatters onto Sam's jeans.

"Fuck..." Dean rolled onto his back, his cock still half-hard and poking up. He was panting a little, and Sam watched his chest rise and fall. Eyes closed, Dean reached over and patted Sam's thigh. "You okay there?"

"Yeah. That was...wow, Dean, I never..." Sam's words trailed off. How to even explain the emotions rolling through him? There was nothing to even remotely compare it to.

Dean chuckled. "Yup. I know just what you mean." He sighed contentedly, stuffing his cock back into his jeans and wiping his sloppy hand on the blanket.

Sam flopped down; the buzz, the orgasm, _Dean_ ; everything spun around in his head, faster and faster, and suddenly he felt his stomach twisting. He barely had time to roll off the blanket before he vomited, his guts heaving as whiskey-flavored puke ejected from him. He coughed and spat, trying to catch his breath.

A warm hand rubbed his back. "You okay, baby?" asked Dean, his husky voice concerned.

Sam felt his cheeks flush. Now he did feel like a stupid kid, and he wished Dean would just leave and let him stew in his own embarrassment.

"Hey, no worries," said Dean, apparently reading his mind. "Tossing your cookies--it's a rite of passage! You got drunk, got high, got off, got sick! Now you're a man!" He clapped Sam on the shoulder with a laugh.

Sam sat back up, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. Yeah, he liked that. He smiled at Dean, heart soaring at the way those green eyes were looking at him with affection. Sam felt his embarrassment melt into appreciation of his new status: he was a man.

Benny had gradually gotten used to Jo. She was annoying, sure, what thirteen-year-old wasn't, but she was funny as hell too. And she didn't play any cutesy games to get his attention; there was no coy flirting to deal with. She just said what she thought. He didn't have to work at trying to get into her pants or pretending to be more than he was. It was...refreshing.

But it was late--or early--and he had a race on the horizon. "Well, cher, it's time to take you home. No way you going to a race with me. Maybe in a couple years."

She huffed, but nodded. "In a couple years, you're going to forget all about me. You'll be chasing girls with lots of lipstick and big boobs."

Benny chuckled. "Maybe. But I'll still remember you. I don't think there's anyone quite like you, Jo. Full of sass and don't give a damn."

Jo smiled at him. "And don't you forget it!"

They pulled up in front of her house, sitting silently in the car for a moment. "Thanks," she finally said softly. "Thanks for the ride, and thanks for not treating me like some bratty little kid."

"Anytime, cher," Benny replied. He was surprised to actually be sorry to see her go. He reached up and took his newsboy cap off, tossed it onto her hair. "Here--little souvenir." Then, surprising himself even, he leaned over and pecked her on the cheek.

She blinked at him before squealing, "Oh man! Thanks! Wait till I show my friends, now they'll have to believe me when I tell them I spent the night with Benny LaFitte!"

She bounced out of the car as he yelled after her, "Do not tell them that! I'll be arrested!"

Her front door shut, and he sat back with a groan. Then he smiled.

Castiel looked around with confusion. The Angels had pulled up at Wainwright's farm. "Guys, what are we doing here?" he asked.

Gabe and Zach sniggered. Gabe said, "We have a little prank on tonight's schedule, and you're going to help us. First we gotta pick something up here."

Cas was definitely confused what they needed to pick up at a farm, but he shut up. He just wanted to get through this night with all of his parts intact.

It turned out what they were picking up was piglets. Six, in fact. Even contained in a pen, there was a lot of chasing and cursing, and Cas found himself hard pressed not to laugh his ass off at watching the Angels run after frantic little piglets.

Once they had the piglets sequestered in the Barracuda's trunk ("just for a little bit," said Balt, "they'll be fine"), they drove to the Baptist church, parking at the far end of the lot there. "Where's the paint?" asked Balt, and Gabe held up a can of black paint and a paintbrush.

They painted a number on each piglet, a task which took all four of them to accomplish. The piglets were very, very eager to get out of there, but they finally each had their number on their pink little bodies. Once again, Cas was confused.

"One, two, three, four, five, and _seven?_ Where's six?" he asked.

The other three burst into laughter. "That's what the church folks sill be wondering! Not only will the piggies mess up their social, but they'll be looking for piggie number six all night!"

Cas couldn't help it--he laughed too as he imagined the hectic search for the non-existant pig number six.

Sam sat back in the passenger seat of the Impala, enjoying the night air as Dean drove aimlessly around the countryside. He was content in a way he'd never felt before--at ease within himself and with Dean.

"Where do you live? Are you from Lawrence?" he asked Dean, noting with a little surprise how Dean's hands tightened on the steering wheel at the question.

"I was born here, but I don't live here anymore. I...I travel a lot, don't really have a fixed home." Dean fiddled with the radio, nodding with satisfaction when the Voice of God came on.

"The Voice of God don't gather no moss, boys and girls, he's traveling the world! And all the while, he's talkin' to you! It's like I said-- _Papa was a Rolling Stone_ !

Sam felt somewhat deflated. He'd finally met someone, and that someone wasn't staying. "How long you going to be around?" he finally asked.

Dean shook his head. "Maybe another day. Depends on my grandfather." He shot a look at Sam, and pulled over onto the shoulder. "Come here, Sammy." He tugged Sam over into his arms.

Sam nosed into Dean's throat, willing himself not to cry, but failing, a few tears trickling down. Dean rubbed his back. "I know, sucks," he muttered, kissing the top of Sam's head. "All I can say is that you wasn't no one night stand, Sammy. I like you a lot. Like, a _lot._ I can't stay here--me and my granddad don't have that kind of job--but I can come by often as possible. And I can call you." He tipped Sam's face up and kissed the tear tracks on his cheeks. "And one day, you're going to leave here. So, let's say...we'll do our best, okay? How does that sound to you?"

Sam nodded. He'd take something rather than nothing. "What do you and your granddad do?"

Dean huffed and said, "Maybe someday I'll be able to tell you, but right now...right now, you're better off not knowing. It's safer that way."

He wrapped his arms around around Sam, and Sam figured it didn't matter so much, as long as he got Dean like this.

Releasing the pigs had indeed created a furor at the church social, and Cas knew he should feel bad, but it was just so damn funny. Even as the guests at the social had begun to corral the piglets, they were shouting "Where's the sixth one?" He and the Angels had barely been able to control their laughter until they were well away.

"You were awesome, Cas," Balt had stated, and the other two Angels agreed. "You're an honorary Angel!" They'd all shook hands and parted as friends.

Shortly after that, Cas's old girlfriend Hannah had driven by, cruising in her cousin Naomi's little Datsun. They had picked him up, and he and Hannah had ended up making out in the back seat until Naomi got pissed and kicked him out.

And now here he was, walking and dreaming about the beautiful black-haired vixen with the wicked smirk and the hot red 'Vette, and wondering about the Voice of God. Rumor was that the Voice broadcast from somewhere above the Earth, looking down at all the little people. Castiel didn't know if that was true, but he'd decided to walk out to the little radio satellite station just out of town anyway. What the heck, he had nothing better to do but seek out the Voice of God.

It was a pretty ramshackle affair--a little square brick building at the foot of the giant tower. The door was unlocked when he tried it and he slipped inside. It was dark, but he saw a square of light and, like a questing moth, he headed for it.

Sure enough, it was the studio booth, and behind it sat a slight brown-haired man with huge blue eyes and a scruffy beard. Castiel found himself thinking of soulful lemurs. The man was pushing buttons, and when he noticed Castiel he beckoned him inside.

"Hey there, what can I do for you, man?" The man's voice was soft and a little reedy.

Castiel felt a little foolish, now that he was here, but he had nothing to lose. "I'm, uh, I'm Castiel. I'm looking for the Voice of God. Are you...um..."

The man laughed. "Am I the Voice of God? Hell, no! I'm Chuck, I'm just the operator--I push the buttons and play the commercials. The real guy is somewhere else." He studied Castiel. "You need something in particular? Maybe I could get a message to him."

Castiel felt deflated. He hadn't had a lot of hope, but now he had nothing. "No, I had...I have a decision to make, and I thought he might give me a clue." He ran a hand over his forehead and sighed.

Chuck pushed a few buttons and then turned his attention back to Castiel. "Well, lay it on me, man. No promises, but I can try."

"I'm supposed to leave for college tomorrow morning. I've wanted it for a long time, couldn't wait to get out of Lawrence, you know? See the big world and all. But now..."

Chuck smiled and nodded. "But now, you aren't so sure. Suddenly the world is a little scary, and Lawrence seems safe and warm. Something like that?"

Castiel nodded eagerly. He couldn't bear to say it out loud, but Chuck laid it out for him, right there in the quiet of the station.

Chuck sighed. "Man, that is a tough one. All I can say is, I think about the Voice of God out there, traveling all over, meeting new people, having new experiences, and here I am, sitting in the radio station outside of Lawrence, doing the same thing all the time. And I wonder...what if I _were_ the Voice of God myself? What would I do?" His big blue eyes studied Castiel.

Castiel shivered. He'd been dodging the question all night, and here it was, staring him in the face.

"Well, I'm not, so I don't have to answer that," Chuck said cheerfully. "I'll see what I can do with the Big Man, okay?" He reached out and shook Castiel's hand. "Good luck, buddy, whichever path you choose."

"Thanks." Castiel gave a little wave and retreated into the dark, fumbling his way to the door.

As he stepped outside, he heard the Voice of God on the air. "No matter where you go, there you are, dudes and dudettes! Sometime you gotta just break free of the tried and true a little, know what I mean? The Voice of God loooves to travel, and I'm always sending good vibes at my guys and gals way down below, trying to show you the way!" The opening lines of Foreigner's _Long Long Way from Home_ began as the Voice laughed.

Whirling around, Cas could see Chuck speaking into the mic, face animated, hands gesturing. Cas smiled and closed the station door behind him.

Jess sat stiffly inside Eldon Styne's car, watching the clouds turn pink. They'd driven around for a few hours, Eldon regaling her with stories of his wins, his cars, himself. She'd responded less and less, quickly growing tired of his perpetual self-aggrandizing. Even when they got something to eat to go, she remained quiet, until finally he'd gotten downright angry with her. "What the fuck," he snarled. "Why are you even riding with me? You won't talk, you won't lemme kiss you, you won't let me put a fucking arm around you! What the hell do you want, you cold bitch?"

They were approaching the racing site now--a long, straight, open road out on the country. There was already a group of cars and people there, but she didn't see either Adam or Sam, or Benny, for that matter. She put a hand on the door handle to open it and exit the Camaro, but Eldon reached across her and slammed the lock down.

"You can just sit tight there, baby. I'm gonna beat the snot out of LaFitte here, and then you and me are gonna go someplace real private and have our own little party." He sneered at her, and she felt a trickle of fear down her spine.

Adam had run into Castiel back at Biggerson's, so they rode out to the race together. Adam was still pissed about the fight with Jess, but now he was also sad that they hadn't spent this last night together. He told Cas what happened, and Cas drily pointed out that Adam hadn't been terribly respectful of the girl he professed to love. Adam was kicking himself while they parked the Nova and got out to watch the race.

"Hey, Eldon is already here, but I don't see Benny yet," said Adam, scanning the cars.

"Adam...do you see who's in the Camaro with Eldon?" Cas grabbed Adam's elbow. "It's Jess!"

"What? What's Jess doing in Eldon's car?" Adams started to walk over, but then Benny pulled up level with Eldon, and they had to step back.

"Hang on, dude, I'm sure she'll get out before the race starts." Cas's voice was calm, but Adam didn't feel calm at all. He was jittering to get Jess out of that car. They both watched anxiously as Benny and Eldon lined their cars up.

Sam and Dean joined them, Sam making hasty introductions. Dean nodded and smiled, and Sam asked where Jess was.

"In Eldon's car!" fumed Adam.

Sam looked surprised, but before he could comment, Garth stepped out between the cars, holding a bright red bandanna. He counted down from three, and dropped the bandanna when he yelled "Go!"

Both cars zoomed off.

Sam clutched Dean's hand as the cars took off. He thought racing was exciting, but it was scary too--cars barreling down the country road, exhaust and dust rising in huge clouds, engines revving and tires squealing. Everyone admired Benny and his skill, his fast car, but he and Eldon had been trash-talking each other for a while. This was more than a regular race, this was a grudge match for top dog.

Everyone was yelling and cheering for Benny, including Sam. The Camaro jumped off the starting line first, but Benny's Chevelle caught it quickly, then pulled ahead. The Camaro roared up and for a moment they were neck-and-neck. The dust was so thick that Sam couldn't tell who was ahead now. Was it the Chevelle? The Camaro? Surely it had to be Benny?

The cheering turned into yells of alarm as the Camaro swerved sharply off the road.

Jess screamed as Eldon's Camaro careened off the road into the drainage ditch. It hit the side of the ditch, rolling over and over. The ground and sky spun before her; she couldn't tell which was which. Metal crunched and glass shattered, pieces flying around, sparkling in the early morning sun. The car finally stopped moving, settling to earth with a final thump. Incredibly, it was right side up.

Jess fought to get the door open and fell out onto the grass. She only wanted one thing--Adam. Adam's strength, Adam's love, Adam's arms protecting her. _Adam!_

Then he was there, wrapping her up against him, his voice talking to her, soothing her as she trembled and cried.

"Don't leave me! Please, please don't leave me!" The words tumbled out of her, she barely knew what she was saying until he kissed her head.

"I won't. I'm not. I'll wait for you, and then we'll both go," he whispered, running his hands over her hair, her shoulders, then pulling her in tight again.

"I'm sorry...I was mad, I didn't mean to--" Her throat was choked with tears. She'd almost lost him. She'd almost lost everything.

"I know, I'm sorry. It's okay, as long as you're okay, everything's fine."

His arms never felt so good around her.

Garth and Benny stood at the side of the road, watching the tow truck hook up to the wreck of Eldon's car. Eldon himself had stomped away furiously. Benny felt for the man--no one wanted to lose their car in a crash like this--but he was still glad to see the asshole leave.

"Dude! That was so awesome! You were just pulling away like he was standing still!" Garth enthused.

Benny shook his head, not able to meet Garth's admiring gaze. "Naw, man, I wasn't. I was losing."

Garth stared at him. "Whatcha talkin' about? He was eating your dust!"

Benny started walking away, Garth trailing behind him. "No, he wasn't. He was right on me, and he was starting to pull ahead when he flipped." He shook his head again. "I was losing."

Garth stopped, his mouth agape. "Benny, you...I...what..."

Benny turned and gave Garth's shoulder a friendly punch. "It's all right. I guess time's gotta come, right? I can't race everyone forever." He sighed. "Least now I can just say I quit and stay on top, right?"

"Sure thing, Benny. No one'll ever beat you! You'll always be the best!"

Benny threw an arm around Garth's shoulders, and they started walking back to town.

Sam and Dean stood in front of Biggerson's. Adam had reclaimed the Impala. With his decision to postpone college one year, there was no need for Sam to take care of it. While Sam was pleased to have his brother around, he was crushed to lose the Impala.

"Hey, it's okay. I like you anyway." Dean nudged him with an elbow. "You got a car of your own at all?"

"Well, I have a...a Vespa," Sam muttered.

"A Vespa! Cool! It's almost a motorcycle, right? And besides, we can sit real close when we ride." Dean gave him a dirty wink, and Sam couldn't breath for a second.

"Yeah...I never thought about it like that." Sam gave a sight of relief that Dean still wanted to be with him.

"Yeah! So listen, I gotta go, but I'll call you." Dean started to walk away, then turned and mimed a telephone. "Seriously, dude. You'll be hearing from me."

"Okay, I'll be waiting!" Sam watched Dean walk away before retrieving his Vespa and chugging away, smiling ear-to-ear.

It was already warm at the airport the next morning, sun shining and reflecting on the shiny silver plane, as they gathered to see Cas off. Cas stood with his bags at his feet, hugging his family and friends as he said good-bye.

"It's gonna be weird without you here," said Sam, his arms wrapped around himself.

"Hey, Christmas will be here before you know it," said Adam. "Then summer again, and then me and Jess will be going with you." He clapped Cas on the shoulder.

"Yeah, I know. You guys all take care, okay?" Cas picked up his bags and walked to the plane, stopping to wave one more time before he climbed the stairs.

The plane took off, and Cas watched as his friend grew smaller and smaller. The cars below looked like his Matchbox cars when he was little, zipping up and down little gray roads.

A bright red car caught his eye. The crimson 'Vette, barreling down the road. He started in his seat, then laughed and sat back.

He'd be back at Christmas.


End file.
